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“Why not?”
Jeff draped his arm over the back of Max’s chair. “Because once he starts talking he doesn’t shut up and I told your mom I’d have you home for dinner.”
Max’s eyes boggled open. “Can you really talk that long?” he asked Gonzo.
“You ain’t seen nothing, kid.” Gonzo rubbed his hands together. “Where to begin?”
Chapter Eight
Kiadumpedouttheload of laundry on the bed and began sorting. The doorbell rang. She eyed the clock. Max would be home any minute. She wandered to the front door and pulled it open. “Max, why’d you ring the bell?”
“Dad said he wasn’t allowed to just barge into your house.”
“True, but this is your house, so you don’t ever have to knock, no matter who you’re with.”
“Okay.” He glided past her and kicked his shoe off his foot. The sneaker smacked against the wall.
“Dude, easy,” she warned, eyeing the dirty shoe mark on the wall.
“Sorry.” Max grinned.
She shook her head. The kid wasn’t sorry at all.
“So how was your day?” she asked.
“Good.” Max dug into his backpack and pulled out a flat, round red object. “Look what Gonzo gave me.”
Jeff groaned audibly beside her. She flicked a glance at him, and he mouthed sorry. Narrowing her eyes, she looked back at the object in Max’s hand. “What is that?”
“A whoopee cushion.” Max’s eyes gleamed. “You shoulda heard dad’s fart with it.”
Turning, she raised her eyebrow at Jeff. “Seriously?”
He held up his hands, palm up. “First, it was Gonzo, not me, that set it up.”
“Yeah, but you farted,” Max said.
“Not helpful, buddy,” Jeff grumbled.
“And just where did you let this giant ripper go?” she asked. At the mortification on Jeff’s face, she couldn’t help but smile. His cheeks turned pink as the blush worked its way up his face.
“In the restaurant.”
She sputtered a laugh. “Oh God. That’s awful.”
“Are you seriously laughing?” he asked. “There was a table of women beside us. I think one of them gagged a little.”
Max bent over, laughing. “Gonzo said next time we should have stink bombs too.”
“No,” Jeff growled, then turned to her. “Look, I know it’s not great. I talked to my friends, and they understand why that wasn’t appropriate.”
“Relax, Jeff, it’s totally fine. His cousins have taught him a lot worse.”
Jeff visibly sagged beside her. “You’re not mad?”
“No, of course not. It’s a whoopee cushion. You didn’t teach him how to rob a bank.”
“Can dad stay for dinner?” Max asked.
